


Slow Burn.. What's That?

by doctor_hemlock



Series: Slow Burn... What's That? [1]
Category: Darksiders (Video Games)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Or Is It?, Other, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Romance, Strangers to Friends, The Watcher is rude, War learns how to make friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 03:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19309396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_hemlock/pseuds/doctor_hemlock
Summary: A series of scenarios from Darksiders with a human thrown in the mix.War is sent to Earth a century after he prematurely brought the apocalypse to the third kingdom of man to take down the Destroyer to right his wrongs. During this time, as we've seen in Darksiders III, humans would band together in Haven beneath the watch of Ulthane and other Makers. Reader was born to one of the humans within the group long after the apocalypse started, all she's ever known is the divine conflict between the races. After all, it takes a village to raise a child, and after years of living together peacefully, she finds herself alone for the first time.Until the red rider comes along and takes her on as his charge in the name of the Balance, and the rest is history.





	1. All Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I've been replaying Darksiders again while simultaneously playing III, so as I progress through the game I'll write a few chapters here and there about it. I'm a little impatient and sporadic when it comes to romance, so forgive me if it isn't exactly the slowest burn to have ever burned, that'll be my Death fics (when they come). A bit out of character, and not the best introduction, but it gets better, I swear.

After War’s crash landing on earth, he went scavenging for souls to feed the demon Vulgrim’s appetite in return for information on the Destroyer. The Crossroads were a dangerous place to be, with all manner of monsters and the ruined buildings that fell apart beneath his feet and overhead. Walking down cracked, abandoned streets, in search of soul chests and larger beings that would contain an abundance of souls for him to return as soon as possible.

                Turning own an empty alleyway, the horseman took cautious steps until he turned right, peering down a severe looking staircase. Drawing Chaoseater, he inched down the steps one by one until he was met with a door. Initially he’d attempted the knob, realizing it had been blocked by something. Pressing his pauldron against the door, he threw the entirety of his weight into it, knocking it down with ease. Cerulean eyes peered into the room, studying it. He could feel a presence, no matter how faint the heartbeat. The stench of sweat and fear hung in the air. If he stood still long enough, he could hear faint, shaky breathing.

                The Watcher appeared before him, drifting from his gauntlet to snap at him.

                “ _What in the Seven Hells are you doing?_ We have to return to Vulgrim with the damned souls!”

                “There is something alive in here.”

                _“So what?_ _Kill it and be done with it!”_

                War moved on, ignoring the infernal creature’s commands. The room was covered in old newspapers, pieces of scrap metal, demon bones and ashes. A makeshift spit was hidden behind an old, burnt office desk, leading the Nephilim further into the room. A small chunk of the wall was missing directly in the center, just large enough for his gauntlet to fit into. Sliding it in hesitantly, he pressed further until he heard a tiny yelp followed by whimpering. Curiosity flooded his senses as he reached further.

                He curled his fingers in, catching on some sort of material and pulling towards him. Whatever it was, it struggled as he tugged. Flailing in his grasp, it certainly put up a decent fight for its size, flinging his hand against the sides of the burrowed tunnel. Grunting in frustration, War opened his hand then grasped it harder, causing a high-pitched moan to escape the little vermin. Yanking it from the hole, he dropped it on the floor in front of him.

                Expecting a multitude of eyes, grotesque limbs or fangs of some sort, he was surprised to find two (E/C) eyes looking up at him with fear. It was hairless save for the mess of (H/C) hair that was tied into a topknot, curled tendrils of hair falling in front of its ears and around its round, (S/C) face. A face that was covered in dirt and sweat, shadowed with exhaustion. War couldn’t believe his own eyes.

                There before him sat a live human, clutching at its arm where he must’ve grabbed it.

                “What? A human? How?”

                The Watcher hissed at it, causing it to cower as the black creature circled it. When War had pulled it from its hideout, it fell onto its hands and knees unceremoniously. Now he and the Watcher looked at one another before looking to the human once more.

                “Human. Stand. You will come to no harm here.”

                “Y-you promise?” Its voice was high-pitched, hoarse from disuse, and cautious above all.

                “You have my word. Who are you?”

                “M-my name is (Y/N).”

                She moved to stand, giving him a chance to study her in her entirety. Not very tall, even by human standards. Given he was pushing seven feet, she came up to the middle of his breastplate. A thin thing, wearing light jeans and a thin black jumper, with a plaid flannel and green raincoat draping her inner layers, all stained with blood, soot, and dirt. Ragged sneakers covered her small feet, indicating she’d been traveling by foot for some time now. Her hands fidgeted as she stood beneath their scrutinizing gaze, eyes focused on the hilt of his blade. Moving from one foot to the other, it was evident she was unsure of what to do: flee and possibly be hunted down, or stay and be executed where she stood.

                “(Y/N),” he repeated. “How is it you stand before us now? The apocalypse began a century ago, did it not? If I recall correctly, human lifespans do not typically exceed eighty years, as of late.”

                “I was born about twenty-five years ago. My mum became pregnant with me long after it had began, and she wasn’t exactly young when I was born. Most of the others didn’t expect me to survive,”

                “Others…?” The Watcher spoke now, confused. It had been sure all of the “mouth-breathers” had died off years ago. But not even the Council could see all, as had been made apparent of late.

                Nodding, a glossy, lost look overtook her features. “My… family? Other humans, ones my parents had been with when I was born. They all raised us, the other children and I. Tried to pass on human ways of living from the “before times,” or that’s what the older ones called ‘em. Times before the demons and angels rode on earth. There was a fair few of us, pushing almost fifty. They’re… they’re gone now. I’m the only one left.”

                Her voice was full of loss, uncertainty. War picked up on the notion that she couldn’t tell what she was meant to be feeling. Perhaps she was simply trying to survive, just get by until she could make sense of things. The world for this human had been turned upside down long after the third kingdom had been declared lost. Something shifted in him, knowing his actions still affected the kingdom of man long after he rode.

                “ _War_! What are you thinking? Shall we kill the girl and be on our way? We’ve _important_ _business_ to attend to.”

                Looking at the Watcher, who was now floating too close to his face for his liking, and looking back at (Y/N), whose eyes were wide with concern, he felt torn. He had a long journey ahead of him, one which the human may possibly slow down. But he also could not live with himself knowing he left the last living human alone to die. It was without doubt: no matter what she’d learned in her short life, she would not last another twenty-five years alone in this city.

                “(Y/N). Gather your things, however few. You shall accompany me until it is safe.”

                “What?!” Both the Watcher and human cried simultaneously.

                “It is unsafe for one as small and weak as you to be alone in these times, as prepared as you believe yourself to be, I can assure you that you are _not_.” He looked to address his living leash now. “There is a balance to be maintained. Most of man is lost, but here is one before us. AAs being charged with maintaining the Balance, it wouldn’t be right of us to abandon her.”

                Even the Watcher, sharp-tongued as ever, seemed to be at a loss for words. (Y/N) stood helplessly between the two, knowing any pleading on her part would go unheard. War could see every argument she’d built dissolving in the back of her throat. Rather, she turned back to the hole, hoisting herself up and disappearing. They heard the rattling of a pack, various objects being shifted, and War waited whilst the Watcher glared at him. He knew he would pay dearly for his split decision lately, it would see to that, but it had no arguments of its own at the moment, meaning he had been in the right.

                Eventually she clamored gracelessly out of her burrow, equipped with a worn, cracked leather rucksack and a pistol in a makeshift cloth holster at her hip. A small dagger was strapped to her thigh, above her jeans, ready for use. At least she’d had _some_ means to defend herself. Maybe she wouldn’t become _too_ burdensome for the horseman. But for now, they’d have to suck it up. Only time would tell how they would fare.

                War turned and allowed (Y/N) to pass by him as they made to leave. The Watcher stopped him before he could move.

                “You better know what you’re doing.” It hissed before dissipating into his gauntlet for good.

                _‘Let’s hope I do.’_


	2. Tiamat: The Queen of Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast forward: upon escaping the hordes of angels on the back of a heavenly mount our horseman and his charge have hijacked, they find themselves looking up at the lair of the first of the Chosen: Tiamat, the Bat Queen, Queen of Twilight, the Dusk Queen, etc. War and Reader's first dungeon dive together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skip a decent bit of the dialogue, and that's my bad. I write my chapters as I play and don't have as much time to focus on the dialogue, but I try to include the important bits. Our characters have had a bit of time to bond a little, at least. I'll include snippets at a later date. We all know what's going on, however, as we're here now. Please enjoy.

“The Twilight Cathedral, I’m assuming?”

She asked, looking at the horseman rather than the cathedral. It was a sprawling mess of stone of which its spires extended so far into the sky one could scarcely see them. War studied the building, watching flurries of bats flutter about as thunder rolled overhead, gentle rain peppering down the trio.

“Now, I’m not really the religious sort, but I don’t think this place is very _holy_ anymore.”

War looked at her, curious as to whether that had been a sarcastic remark or a general statement. (Y/N) always had some smart words up her sleeve, it seemed, much like his siblings, but at times they went directly above War’s head. But it appeared she wasn’t entirely sure herself if it was intended as such, so she shut her mouth and continued to peer up at him.

War looked down at the human, surprised she’d made it thus far. Her courage had been almost unwavering, as if she knew he wouldn’t allow her to come to harm. (Light/Dark) eyes met his own blue ones, and she quickly looked away to fumble with the sleeves of the stained plaid shirt she wore over her sweatshirt. Her raincoata had been lost somewhere along their flight here, due to one of the angels that had flown too close for their liking. Taking notice of how baggy her clothes were, the Nephilim realized once again just how small she actually was.

“Indeed.” He murmured.

“Once we are inside, I shall find somewhere safe for you to wait. If I am to bring Tiamat’s beating heart to Samael, battle is inevitable. The Watcher shall wait with you.”

At this notion, the Watcher emerged, and he knew spittle would be flying had he a mouth to produce it with.

“Me? Playing  _babysitter_  to a  _human_? I think  _not_. Let the little pest  _fry_  in battle with you.”

Emphasis was placed on the word “fry” as the Watcher leered at her face. (Y/N) folded her arms defensively. Crossing its many arms, it turned away.

“You shall watch the human in the name of the Balance. You won’t have to defend her, simply remain with her. Ensure she doesn’t find trouble herself.”

“Hey! I can watch myself. I’m not a  _baby_.”

War almost _scoffed_ at her protest.

“In the earth’s current state, you may as well be. I assure you, you are the youngest thing to currently exist by far, and your ability to defend yourself matches it. You will stay with the Watcher, and that is final.”

The pair said nothing, War walking between them and kicking the doors to the cathedral open. Following along in silent agreement, they knew War would accept no argument.

(Y/N) was awestruck by the statues found within, and couldn’t stop gazing at the elaborate crystal sword used to open the door. Great stone arches had been elegantly carved, but their beauty couldn't match the intricatelt sculpted angels whose eyes seemed to follow their every move as they walked past, entering the main chamber of the temple.

“Hey, it’s the mount!”

She was right. It was facing off with Tiamat, trying, and just barely succeeding, to hold its ground. The two clashed for a moment, bumping into the stone walls, and they watched as it escaped through a hole in the ceiling, the bat queen hot on its heels. 

“We must keep moving.”

So they did.

Moving through the temple took time, and much fighting. The horseman was still becoming accustomed to the feeling of tiny, wiry arms around his neck as he traversed territory she never would have been able to. such as the demonic growth that covered the walls, large gaps that opened to pools of molten lava beneath them. It did not make him as uncomfortable as it did initially. Once, War had almost frozen completely when the time came for him to carry her for the first time, afraid he would be too forceful and she'd meet her end at his hands. But they'd ultimately persevered, using Shadowflight to ensure their safe landing. Now, with her tucked between Chaoseater and his back, he made a mental note to search for some type of fabric to create a sort of sling to ensure her safety. One time before her hands had slipped, and she’d nearly fallen to her inevitable death.

War had been furious with himself, and scolded her in a manner that was almost parental. It hadn’t been her fault, and he realized he may have been expecting her to go beyond her human nature. He quickly realized he had more to learn about humans than he’d originally thought.

They were looking down into the courtyard, searching for a way into the next room. The large growth of crimson crystals barred their way from the opposite side, and the massive dangling demonic equivalent of a Venus flytrap blocked their way in what once was the sanctuary, it seemed.

(Y/N) was studying the massive angel statue before her as War paced, contemplating their next move. Standing before it, she seemed mesmerized by its immense size. Suddenly a gasp fell from her mouth.

“War, do you think you’d be strong enough to push this? Maybe you can use it on that bomb over there if you moved it down to the courtyard.”

Had he the mouth his siblings had, particularly Death, he would have had some snarky reply. Instead, he pondered the idea’s use. If it could be used, they could advance. If not, he at least at humored her suggestion, and further tested his own strength in the process. So. the horseman moved to the statue, bracing himself against it, and shoved it off the ledge with ease.

It clattered down to the ground in mere seconds, and continued to crash through the stone, opening the way beneath the church. She clapped her hands in excitement, and he found himself holding back the smallest of smiles at her reaction.

“Good thinking, small one.”

Offering his large gauntlet, she climbed into it and he hoisted her onto his back before plunging below.

-

They emerged from the hole, Beholder's key in hand, marching back across the courtyard in no time. War made quick use of Chaoseater, finishing the two demons in a matter of seconds. Plunging the key into the lock, the splatter of blood dove across his silver gauntlet, and he shook it off without a second thought. Carrying her over more pools of lava had been nothing, but they came to an empty, wide stone room. The other crystal blade they needed lay in its pedestal, on the opposite side of the room, in front of another waiting angel.

War’s eyes narrowed.

“Stay.” was his only command as he marched forward. Behind him a barrier erupted, keeping her from danger, and a massive armored demon emerged from the ground.

“War! Be careful!”

Looking back, her expression was equal parts worry and fear, melted into one almost heart  _wrenching_  one. He merely nodded, drawing Chaoseater and moving forward.

-

“Ha! He was  _weak_. Like a turtle without a shell beneath that armor of his. You kicked his  _ass_ , no problem.”

War felt his chest puff up just the tiniest amount at the sound of her bragging. He could’ve sworn a smile was trying to fight its way into his face. But she had to be set straight.

“He was not _weak_ , but he made the mistake of choosing frail armor. Chaoseater ate through it in no time. That was his error. Take note, _learn_ from it.”

She nodded meekly, as if she’d been a child he’d just chastised. Her face glowed the same shade of red as his hood, though War was moving by too quickly to spare her a glance.

-

They made quick work of the cathedral’s depths. The horseman was, at times, glad she was there. Her fast mind worked out puzzles in the same time, and sometimes sooner, than his. In battle she may be weak, only able to pick off the smallest demons, but her words of encouragement, he thought to himself, seemed to spur him on in lagging moments.

Meeting the Jailer had been the only snag in their progress so far. Moving her to the Watcher, it wasted no time in moving her to one of the broken cages that hung ominously above their heads. Even it understood that now was not a time to argue, despite his immense distaste for the human. (Y/N) allowed it to haul her off, for War’s sake if anything. A dutiful spectator, as always, screaming at him to dodge, to run, and to look out in record time. These moments made War realize she was more of an asset than a hindrance sometimes.  _Sometimes_.

As the Jailer began to sway, War dove for the heavy iron cage he’d been holding and threw it at him with almost unsurpassable strength. It knocked the massive creature to its back, viscous, rotten pus oozing from it as it hit the hard ground. A small, green creature emerged from the cage embedded in its chest, and War eased up behind it to slit its throat with Chaoseater. Leaping over it, it fell lifeless, and all he heard was his charge cheering above. Applauding him seemed to be one of her favorite methods of encouragement, leaving the horseman to feel entirely unsure of how to respond to it. So he did what he normally did: and didn't.

“Wooo! Go War! You did it!”

While the Watcher helped her up, it did not help her down, leaving her to tumble out and War running to catch her. Shooting a cold sneer in its direction, it moved past them as if it hadn’t noticed. Letting her down, she stood with a toothy grin.

“That was awesome, Big Red!”

The girl lifted a fist in the air, looking to him expectantly. When he hadn’t moved, she shook it at him.

“Fist bump?”

Cocking his head, he raised a snowy brow at her.

“You... take your fist,” she began.

The horseman lifted his hand, rather than his massive gauntlet, holding it in the air. Then she leapt, bumping his with hers, and she laughed.

“and do that. It means, like, ‘good job’. ‘Nice going’. ‘You did great’. Things like that. It’s positive.”

War looked at her blankly, but she just continued laughing at him.

“Humans are more peculiar than originally thought.”

-

At last they’d collected the final of the three crystalline swords, securing the third within the stone angel’s waiting hands. As soon as they’d closed around the hilt of the blade, the platform began to shake, and an opening in the glass above split into fourths, moving out of their way as they rose through towards the top. Cool, damp air rushed in as they ascended, feeling the droplets of the rain on their skin.

“All of that for three swords?  _Really?_ Humans built this, and that’s all we could come up with?  _Really?”_

War found himself in agreement with (Y/N) for once. It had been a great deal of trouble that the once living humans had put them through, but he of all knew what would be waiting at the end. Tiamat would not go down without a brutal fight.

“We came from here.” She noted once the platform stilled itself.

But now the barrier that had been blocking their way had dissipated, and the wooden doors flew open with an ancient creak. As soon as they’d crossed the threshold, however, the barrier reappeared.

“It seems we will be taking the long way out.”

A long, winding stone staircase presented itself to them, stretching upwards as far as the eye could see. White candles burned aquamarine, lighting their way in the moments between lightning strikes. (Y/N) snorted at his response, rolling her eyes as she began to climb the tower. War felt his lips tug upwards once she’d turned from him, leaning forward to scoop her into his gauntlet and lay her across his shoulders and down his back. Her arms found their way around him instantly.

“It is a long climb, little one. You’ve been holding your own well enough so far, rest for now. You’ll need your strength.”

Instead of the complaining he’d expected, she sighed and pressed her face into the neck of his hood. Slumping into him, she must’ve been more weary than he’d once thought. They’d ridden through hordes of angels and demons alike without stopping, fought through puzzles and challenges alike, and she’d still been standing. He commended her will.

“Thank you, War.”

Freezing momentarily, he felt something stir in his chest at her tender tone, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. She’d thanked him countless times, each time he’d responded with a mere nod of acknowledgement. But something in her voice was different, in the way she burrowed closer to him rather than away. It made War come to the realization that she was slowly traversing the boundary in his mind from “charge” to “friend”.

Dread filled him at the notion. Oh, how the Watcher would  _love_  to know this...

 


	3. Samael and the Bat Queen's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The scene with Samael and War regaining his Chaos Form, with every dialogue down to the end of the cutscene. Our reader is a bit more sympathetic than she originally seemed, and is discovering what it is to have a genuine crush on another being for for the first time. Bless her.

“I trust that she suffered?”

The demon was propped against one of the massive spikes, waiting for them.

The Watcher appeared, maliciously wringing its four hands. “Not nearly enough.” It was almost _too_ gleeful.

After presenting the first heart of the Chosen, Tiamat’s, to the demon Samael, (Y/N) felt her skin prickle uncomfortably as his scorching eyes roved over her. “Beautiful...”

They were hungry, burning coals set into his angry red face, full of secrets that she wasn’t particularly interested in unraveling. War felt the demon’s gaze on her, stepping between them protectively.

“Ah, War. I see you’ve found a _pet mouse_ to keep you company.”

A thick snarl left War’s throat. “Our deal doesn’t involve her, Samael. Take your heart.”

Taking it, he clutched it to his chest.

“The second Guardian — the Griever, moves in tunnels beneath this place. But first there is an...  _obstacle_  that must be removed.” He said, leaning down to the horseman’s face.

“One of the Old Ones.”

War’s expression remained unreadable, but the disdain was evident in his voice.

“You didn’t mention that before.”

“Changing the deal  _already_ , Samael?” The Watcher nearly screeched, pointing accusingly at him.

“Be silent, _filth_. My business is with the Horseman.”

Samael smacked the Watcher aside, it shrieking in pain as it flew across the spired circle and onto the ground. Samael turned back to War.

“Ulthane is no ally of the Destroyer... but you won’t find the Griever without confronting the Black Hammer. And that will require strength you don’t possess... huh.. yet.” The demon snorted as if a joke had been told, but there was no smile on his face.

Extending a clawed hand, runes encircled the Watcher as Samael used his terrible power to bind and bring it to them. (Y/N) clutched at War’s cloak, for a moment, as he turned to face it. Cowering behind the horseman, she almost worried for the Watcher’s wellbeing.

“URK! What the hell do you think you’re doing, Samael?” Its voice was strained, and the human quickly let go of the horseman as it grew closer to them. Obviously in pain, but Samael continued to squeeze and relax his hand, sending his power through in waves. There was nothing she could do for it now, not with War allowing it almost too willingly.

_“Tell him, Watcher. How you stifle the Horseman’s true power in order to keep him on the Council’s leash.”_

(Y/N) was backing away slowly, fear blossoming in the pit of her stomach at the situation that was unfolding before her. The divine beings had long forgotten her as she took tiny steps, trying not to alert them but unable to take her eyes from the Watcher. Seeing the Watcher have a taste of its own medicine should’ve brought her joy, some sort of satisfaction, but it only made her discomfort grow.

“War—destroy this parasite.”

On the ground, the Watcher lifted its torso up.

“You so much as  _blink_  at me and the Council will  _end_  you.  _Both_  of you. I’m  _protected_.”

Its long, slender fingers darted out at the pair who continued to watch it suffer.

“Not in here.” Samael said, cruel voice smooth as silk. Pointing to War, he cried out.

“You are  _War!_   _Rider of the Red Horse! Not_  some puppet on this  _pathetic_  creature’s strings.” He spat at the Watcher, wearing a glare that was even more terrifying than the last.

War clutched his massive gauntlet as he listened to Samael, and she wanted to take his other hand, beg him not to listen, to leave. But she was a mere  _human_ , completely powerless here. Even the Watcher could end her life with a snap.

_“War, I will make you suffer.”_

The Watcher continued where it lay, hands curling dramatically, chains dangling from its wrists noisily as its six aquamarine eyes narrowed at him.

“Focus your anger. A great rage stirs within you, clawing to get out. You  _must_  release it. Or a puppet you will remain.”

War’s face contorted into a mask of pure rage unlike anything she’d ever seen. His pearly white canine bit into his lip as he clenched his hand, focusing his energy on the foul creature below that had caused him to suffer and continued to do so. Samael’s voice was almost intoxicating, flowing smoothly through his ears and embedding into his brain. To War, she could see how easy it was to allow him in, to allow his influence over him. That didn’t stop her from feeling afraid of the horseman for the first time.

He seethed with fire, the fury that burned within, and shook with it until his face clenched and he cried out, something fierce and unholy and earthquakingly loud. Static surrounding his gauntlet as he lifted it, and in a split second she screamed.

“No!”

Her cries fell on deaf ears, however, and it was too late as he drove it down on top of the Watcher’s thin body. Its arms went limp beneath it.

 _“You are reborn!_ ” Samael cried triumphantly, hands extending to the heavens as the Watcher lifted itself, scratching its head in confusion. Tears had built up at the corners of her eyes, wanting so desperately to look away but finding herself unable to as he lifted his fist.

“What... was  _that_?”

“The Horseman is broken, but there is still much power in him.”

War was already departing, leaving the Watcher and the human to peer after him.

“For a moment I saw... one who would stand along against the Destroyer’s  _army_.”

"Farewell, _little mouse_." The demon called as she scurried forward, attempting to catch up with War before he got too far ahead.

And with that, Samael opened his portal and vanished into it to the depths below.

-

Leaving the Scalding Gallows, trailing behind the horseman at a distance, she refused to meet his eyes when he looked back to ensure she was following. They walked along the cracked street, past crumbling buildings, down towards the mass of red crystals blocking the entrance to the sewer entrance. Detonating the bombs that surrounded it, War still hadn’t said a word as they approached what was supposed to be the way to this “Ulthane”, and go down beneath the ground to find the next of the Chosen.

War stopped abruptly, offering his arm to her. It was the first time he’d acknowledged her since their encounter with the demon prisoner, and she flinched at the initial contact. Regret stung through her veins, making her feel terrible for her reaction to him. He’d never hurt her before, and she’d begun to trust that he wouldn’t _ever_ hurt her. Under his watchful blue eyes, she’d come to no harm thus far. It wasn’t the reaction he deserved.

 _Of course_ he noticed, but said nothing for the time being, but she noticed the confusion that had settled into his brow and forehead. Slipping into his hand, (Y/N) allowed him to carefully slide her between Chaoseater and his back. Taking his time, he turned the crank of the machine, activating the giant fan blade. Walking onto it with such care, he held her wrists at their position at his collarbone when he leapt off at the exit, guaranteeing her safety.

Scooping her up he lifted her to the bars overhead, letting her climb away as he targeted the giant blue baby-like monster in front of them. As soon as he’d brought it down, he raised his gauntlet to her, and she fell back into it with such ease she almost forgot how terrifying he’d been earlier. _Almost_.

But all had been forgotten once they’d left the tunnel.

In all her years of living through the apocalypse, she had never seen so much water in one place in her life. War was saying something about the area but she couldn’t hear him, her wide eyes focused entirely on the glistening waterfalls rolling over sun bleached boulders, crashing into the water below. Dilapidated buildings stood tall in the middle of the makeshift lake, vivid algae and mosses sprouting from where the foundation met the water. Through the massive rocks perfectly round gates had been carved, and between them were massive stone pillars with intricately sculpted faces bored into them.

She’d never seen somewhere so _exquisite_ in her life.

Sighing at the realization that everything he’d said went into one ear and out of the other, he crouched to let her down rather than lowering her with his hands. Brushing against her, she finally broke her trance, looking up at the horseman with a dazed expression.

“What? I’m sorry War, this is just... well, _fantastic_! I’ve never been around water like _this_ before.”

“I was saying,” he began, the slightest hint of irritation in his voice. “that, should you wish it, you may bathe here, given that I check the perimeter first.”

Excitement rushed through her, and she leapt into War’s open stance without thinking, catching him off guard. His annoyance hadn’t even phased her.

“Oh  _really_ , War?  _Truly?_ I can get _in_?”

Looking to the water then back to the girl in his arms, cradling her after he caught her. At the moment War realized just how little it took to make her happy. Listening to her at night could’ve broken the hardest heart, when she cried in her sleep, whimpering the names of who he’d assumed to be loved ones. Hearing her voice airy, carefree almost, was a welcome change, and one he’d have to think of ways to bring about more often.

“Allow me to search the waters first, then you may...  _frolic_  to your heart’s content.”

War set off towards the bank, stepping over the wet earth and stone easily before plunging beneath. While he rooted out any demons that had made their home in the water, she stripped her outer layers and dipped them in the water, scrubbing at the stains in her jeans and flannel roughly. Setting them aside, she went to work on her jumper before finally sliding her undershirt off to wash, leaving her in her underwear and thin brassiere.

Any sense of shame she’d felt in her later years seemed to dissipate as of late, but being around the horseman brought a different sort of embarrassment. She felt inadequate, and not for the first time, around him. Knowing she was weak, a burden, had been one thing, but lately she’d been more concerned with her appearance around him. Even though she knew he didn’t take it into consideration, everything was a matter of practicality in his tactful mind, it seemed to bother her for days on end and she couldn’t  _stand_  it. A long time ago, the state of her hair or the way her body appeared hadn’t even occurred to her, before War, when she had oher humans about her.

Washing her undershirt carefully, her hands fell into the rhythm and her mind wandered, staring at the gentle waves lapping at her knees. A loud splash broke her aimless reverie, however, and she looked up to find the source of it.

War was traipsing out of the water, and she found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. It occurred to her she’d never actually looked at his physique before, and she cursed every hour spent with him that she’d been ignorant to it. Watching the water fall down his armor, glistening in the sunlight, she felt something awaken in her she’d never thought existed.

It made her heart beat against her sternum and her stomach flutter nervously as he approached her, and she slid her undershirt over her head so quickly it got stuck on her ears, causing her to flail blindly for a moment before it came down around her.

_‘Smooth, (Y/N).’_

“Take a picture, mouth-breather, it’ll last longer.”

Suddenly the Watcher was floating near her as the nephilim approached. It was the first time he’d spoken to her since the ordeal earlier. She hadn’t expected any less, but the flush that rose to her face at being caught gawking at the horseman left her speechless. It was as if she’d been slapped, almost.

Trudging through the water, the seven foot horseman towered over where she sat, les curled beneath her in the cool water. In his hand he held three large, monstrous fish creatures.

“I believe this will suffice for your next meal, should we roast them long enough.”

Something in her heart clenched at his thoughtfulness. It came through on smaller things, and had become more apparent to her as of late. Trying to plan for meals at first had been more of a burden to him, but now he seemed not to mind it as much, knowing what she could and couldn’t eat.

“Thank you, War. I appreciate you.”

Standing above her for a moment, War remained quiet, a look of concentration pressed heavy into his masculine features. Water droplets hung from his wispy, white eyelashes and fell from his hair, still perfectly straight when drenched. He was still processing her words when she stood suddenly, deciding to get on with her bath.

Her face had grown redder by the minute as she studied him, and the sooner she escaped his gaze the better.

In an instant, she began running through the shallow water, blatantly and ungracefully flinging herself face first into the clear depths. Beneath the surface, it was an entirely different world. One where the light refracted through the waves above, casting swirling shapes on the floor of the lake. Bright fuchsia plants drifted as if blown by the wind, covering the sides of the sunken structures that were occupied over a century ago.

Slender arms cut through the water, propelling her upwards until she broke the surface, rubbing her eyes and running her fingers through her hair. Pulling it down from the elastic she typically fastened it with, her fingers worked deftly as they untangled any knots that had worked their way into her natural waves. Feeling the grime slide from her body was almost an out-of-body experience, as if the waters were cleansing her soul. She looked to the shore to see War standing, valiant as ever, watching her to ensure no danger befell her.

Waving to him, she sent him the biggest grin she could muster before diving back beneath. He could wait until later.

They had all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for some serious War/Reader interaction in the next chapter.


End file.
